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Old 12-24-2008, 11:21 AM   #1
'73 H1 Triple
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Join Date: Mar 2008
Location: Zionsville,PA
Moto: '93 ZR1100 &'73 Kawasaki H1 500
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Default Remembering Christmas past-wartime, a tree and "Twas the night before Christmas"

I came across this article in our local paper about a WWII picture that has been saved. Pretty cool picture in the .pdf

http://www.buckscountyherald.com/%7E...mas%20Past.pdf

( if anyone can convert a .pdf into something I can post, I'll put the article here )


Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
in a one-bedroom house made of plaster and stone,
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
and to see just who in this home did this person just live.

I looked all around, and a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the mantle, just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With metals and badges, awards of all kinds,
a sober thought came through my mind.

For this was different, it was dark and dreary.
I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
curled up on the floor of his one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
not how I picture a United States soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families that I saw this night
owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world, the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas eve in a land far from home.

The very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped on my knees and started to cry.

The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
Santa don't cry, this life is my choice,
I fight for freedom,I don't ask for more,
my life is my God, my Country, my Corps.

The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still
and we both shivered from the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave on that cold dark night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
whispered " Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Day, all is secure".

One look at my watch and I knew he was right.
Merry Christmas , my friend, and to all a good night.




A big and sincere thank you to all the members of our military who are either away from or were away during the holidays.

Jeff
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